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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23802961">Incandescence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechaoscryptid/pseuds/thechaoscryptid'>thechaoscryptid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Catharsis [34]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Promare (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed, Trans Gueira (Promare), Warm and Fuzzy Feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:15:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,384</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23802961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechaoscryptid/pseuds/thechaoscryptid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I keep waiting for people to show up and say we’re not welcome here anymore. That we have no reason to call ourselves part of the city,” Gueira says. “Makes me want to run.”</p>
<p>Meis hums in acknowledgement again, lighter flicking to life between them as Gueira cups his hands around the flame. “I’d go with you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Anywhere.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gueira/Meis (Promare)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Catharsis [34]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1114704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Incandescence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I finally got Promare and now nothing can stop me from yeeting out GueiMeis to my heart's content, mwahahahaha</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It feels like life’s easier for Gueira than Meis after the Promare leave. Well, not that it’s easy for any of them--every one of the Burnish has their long days of rebuilding and longer, cold nights trying to learn how to live again, but Meis...Meis can’t sleep. It’s not the least of his problems. Certainly not the biggest, either, but in their tiny, one room apartment, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Streetlight pools in through the blinds, cars whiz past at all hours, and the worst part is the way Gueira is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis aches with the want to be that warm again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His joints protest whenever he moves, not even the heat of the summer quite enough to ease the motions of this new life they’re making for themselves. His body creaks and groans and he wants to </span>
  <em>
    <span>scream, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he can’t, because Gueira is right beside him, and his lax face is too peaceful to be disturbed for something so small.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The weight of three blankets presses down on him, along with the oppressive humidity that makes his hair frizz and his skin wet. How incredibly domestic it is, he thinks, that he’s laying here at 3:47 in the morning and wondering if it’s worth investing in a dehumidifier. He swallows and the sound is too loud in his ears, too disturbing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants another blanket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira’s arm, maybe, but the other man sleeps with his limbs tucked in to protect himself from the rest of the world. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He brings a knuckle up to brush against Gueira’s cheek in the half-darkness. Quiet moments like these are what hold him together in this new world. He can take a moment to appreciate the silence, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>beauty </span>
  </em>
  <span>of his friend without those bow-curve lips opening to say some dumb shit like </span>
  <em>
    <span>man, I’d love to get up in the fuckin’ Parnassus wreckage and burn it down.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not that he doesn’t love when Gueira gets fired up, but the upset that flickers across his face once he realizes what he’s said is almost too much some days. It makes Meis want to take that face in his hands, put his forehead against Gueira’s and assure him that no matter what, he’ll be here for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They can weather this new storm together, if Gueira would like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira arches into the touch and mumbles something when Meis stops his soothing movements, taking a second to wonder if it’s worth risking a kiss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?” he whispers, barely audible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira says nothing and presses his cheek harder into the pillow, and Meis sighs as he looks back to the ceiling. He folds both hands over his stomach and picks idly at the skin around his nails as he watches the light patterns shift, his breathing slowing to a near standstill while he considers just how absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked </span>
  </em>
  <span>he is. They’ve lived like this for years--close enough that secrets don’t exist, save for the feelings Meis has kept inside since long before Gueira came into himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Warm fingers brush against his arm, softly at first and then with more urgency as Gueira begins to tug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong, Gueira?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira drapes Meis's hand haphazardly across his cheek, as though that’s going to help anything, before sighing. “Warm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m warm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira lets out a long, low hum that Meis has </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>clue how to decipher before he curls back up once more, feet cool where they brush up against Meis's thigh. His breathing evens in the following seconds and when Meis cards his fingers through red hair, Gueira’s lips twitch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sleeping together is nothing new. Sleeping together is </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They’ve slept together through many nights on the run--with each other, with Lio, with other Burnish members in some form of dogpile that was more limbs and kicking than was comfortable. The intimacy was mitigated by the constant threat that it could be disturbed at any moment, but Meis is slowly getting used to the idea that here in these four walls, no one is coming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shuts his eyes, brow knitting as he rests his hand atop Gueira’s head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one is coming to take him away again and even if they did, he’d find a way to burn the world down for hurting the man he loves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira’s hair tickles when Meis leans closer to press his cheek against the redhead’s crown. He shifts onto his side, wraps an arm around Gueira’s waist with a soft, barely-there whine at the way his friend returns the motion. In this moment, it’s easy to forget that in a few hours, they’ll be back to working their asses off to rebuild a city that never welcomed them before. It’s easy to forget the rest of the world, and easier so when Gueira’s fingers flex against his naked shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Meis,” he mumbles. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Meis.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here,” Meis says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Meis!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gueira’s own cry starts him into waking, and his nails bite at Meis's back as his eyes blow wide. “They’re coming,” he whispers frantically. “We gotta go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis tightens his arm, pulling Gueira flush against his side until the other man begins to struggle against him. “We’re fine,” he says. “We’re safe now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I--I--” Gueira pants, breath heated against Meis's chest. “We...they had…” He cuts off in a groan, fingers twisting in Meis's hair as he leans to rest his forehead in the cradle of his shoulder. “Fuck.”  His voice cracks, loud and broken as the sound pierces the quiet. “Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did they have?” Meis asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Meis splays his hand across the small of Gueira’s back and tries to pour what comfort he can into the air around them. Before, he would have let a flame dance among his fingers to catch Gueira’s attention but now (and every night Gueira dreams), he feels powerless, unable to take back control.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When his breathing’s slowed to near normal, Gueira apologizes once more before letting Meis go. “I’ll be back,” he says. “I need a minute.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis lets his finger trail slowly down his back as he sits up and leaves, then presses the heel of his hand to his forehead with a frustrated wince. He hears the porch door opening just before the telltale scent of smoke floats in on the summer breeze, and takes a deep breath before getting up himself. His lighter calls to him from the nightstand, shining silver in the streetlight until he gives into desire and grabs it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s good to have fire with him, even though Gueira has the pack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s leaning over the porch railing, forehead in one hand and the cigarette in the other as he takes a drag. It’s a feeling Meis knows all too well--anger born of powerlessness, sadness born of change, even though it’s a good change. This disruption to their lives has turned it upside down and though they both know it’s a good thing, old habits die hard and it’s tough to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>forget </span>
  </em>
  <span>years on the run. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis flicks the lighter, the flame dancing too cheerily against his skin as he leans against the counter and watches Gueira’s hips shift. He misses the way pink flames used to race along their bodies, their joy contagious even in the darkest nights. He misses the desert rains, the late nights, and the cries of joy as Boss taught new Burnish exactly how good it feels to let their power rage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Felt, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he has to remind himself as he very nearly misses Gueira turning and motioning to him. His bare feet whisper over the carpet until they stand face to face, only a thin pane of glass to stop him from wiping the hurt gathering at the corner of Gueira’s eyes away. There they stand, motionless, until the moment becomes overwhelming and Meis has to look away. Gueira opens the door for him, stepping aside to make room on the small balcony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want it?” he asks, fingers trembling as he extends what’s left of the cigarette.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the one who needs it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Suit yourself.” Gueira inhales once again, cheeks hollow and eyes dulled as he holds it before his jaw drops and white curls up to the sky above. He stares off into the distance for a minute, mouth still open and face slack before he snaps it shut and shakes his head. “Don’t ever leave me,” he says roughly. “I hate it when you leave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that what you dream about?” Meis asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira sets his jaw and nods, looking at the deck below.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have I ever left you? Here, in the real world?” Meis tips his head to the side, baring his scar to the world as he tries to catch Gueira’s eye. “Gueira?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s hard to remember sometimes,” Gueira mumbles. “I know everyone’s supposed to be adjusting, and Boss is happy with Galo, and you...</span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’re one of the only constants in my life, Meis, and the thought of losing that last--” He hisses sharply as he looks down and taps his foot. “They were coming to take you for the engine again. I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Meis says softly. He steps forward and tips the other man’s chin up, thumb and forefinger firm when Gueira attempts to look away. “You know you can tell me, right? I’ve been here through far worse than seeing you hurting. I’m not running now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to fuckin’ burn again, and I only seem to be able to come close when you’re around.” Gueira’s eyes shut as he brings the cigarette up for another lungful, hand bumping against Meis's before it drops once more. “D’you ever get that feeling that everything’s going to fall apart if you make one wrong move?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis huffs a quiet laugh. “Every day,” he says, but he can’t admit that much of it revolves around </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I think we all do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shitty, isn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I keep waiting for people to show up and say we’re not welcome here anymore. That we have no reason to call ourselves part of the city,” Gueira says. “Makes me want to run.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis hums in acknowledgement again, lighter flicking to life between them as Gueira cups his hands around the flame. “I’d go with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re getting sappy on me,” Gueira says, but there’s no teasing, only the soft sound of acceptance. “Is this what domestic feels like?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it’s what happiness is.” Meis focuses on the flame, not the way Gueira’s breath hitches or the way his hands fall away. It sears into his retinas and by the time he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>manage to look up, the other man’s face is obscured by black.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Being sappy with me makes you happy?” Gueira asks, the words ghosting across Meis's skin as he peers up through his lashes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want me to answer that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira nods, and Meis bridges the few inches between them to press their foreheads together. The noises of the city streets fade to nothing as they stare at the light between their chests, illuminating the gentle swell of Gueira’s chest and the hollows that still dip between Meis’s ribs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You make me happy,” he whispers. “That’s my constant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gueira’s nose bumps against Meis’s, lips a scant half inch from where Meis is waiting with a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>outrageous </span>
  </em>
  <span>amount of restraint. “I’m your constant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words taste like smoke and salvation as Meis catches them on his tongue, nodding silently as he rolls them in his mouth. “That’s why I can’t leave,” he says around a quiet smile. “Where would I be if you weren’t there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira’s answer is the simplest action, a barely-there movement as he closes the final space between them. The press of his lips against Meis’s feels like the most natural thing in the world--as easy as the way they fall into bed together, or the way their speech blurs together when they both get excited at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s simple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>them.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis drops a hand to Gueira’s waist, squeezing gently as Gueira presses him back against the railing. It probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be uncomfortable against his bare back, but all he can feel is the way Gueira’s lips move against his. It warms him in ways even the Promare couldn’t, spreading slow from his core and through his limbs to light him up from the inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hopes Gueira feels the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long?” the redhead murmurs against his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too long.” Meis curls his fingers around the lighter and skims his knuckles over Gueira’s other side, capturing his lips once again as the first rays of a new dawn break over the distant skyline. “Way too fuckin’ long.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Meis,” Gueira breathes. He throws his arms around Meis’s shoulders, squeezing tighter than necessary, but Meis can’t find it in himself to mind as Gueira whispers his name again like a prayer. “No more hiding.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never again.” Overcome, Meis crushes Gueira’s body to his. There’s no thought of indecency, only that he needs Gueira closer, </span>
  <em>
    <span>deeper. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He winds a hand into tangled red locks as Gueira rocks his hips against a bony thigh, groans softly when Gueira tugs on his hair in turn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Gueira says when they break apart. His cheek rests against Meis’s, his voice the sweetest song as it curls down the length of Meis’s spine. “Come back to bed with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not waiting anymore,” Gueira says, earnest and open as he slides his hands down Meis’s arms, tangling their fingers together in the grey-gold dawn. He tugs. “Now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis allows himself to be pulled through the door, the living room, and to rest on his hands and knees above Gueira on the bed. “What do you want?” he asks softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His inhale shuddering, Meis plants his elbows by the other man’s ears and grinds down against the flat panes of his stomach. “Don’t have any condoms,” he says. “Shouldn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need one to suck me off,” Gueira says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or not--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis traps Gueira’s face with his hands, stealing the anxieties with another kiss. When he’s finished, Gueira’s gaze is unfocused, his breath uneven as he looks up. “We don’t have to do it all at once,” he murmurs. “Where do you want to be touched?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here.” Gueira pulls Meis’s hand to his chest, guides his fingers over a peaked nipple as he arches into the touch. “If you--</span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>yeah, mmph.” His eyes flutter shut when Meis pinches gently, cock resting heavy against Gueira’s hip. “Yeah, that…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Canting his hips down, Meis cradles Gueira’s face with his free hand as he slips his tongue between warm lips. Gueira’s is slick against his, unpracticed but no less eager than he always is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s all right, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Meis thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We have time.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’re you smilin’ about?” Gueira asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This. Us,” Meis says, pressing a kiss to Gueira’s brow. He likes the sound of that, too, and when he says it again, Gueira’s smile matches his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sap,” he says, breathless. His fingers tease along the elastic of Meis’s boxers, over the wet spot on the front before Meis twitches at the touch. “Can I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm,” Meis hums. Unceremoniously, he shoves the fabric down to his thighs as he kisses along the column of Gueira’s throat. Warmth still licks through his veins, stoked by the steady strokes of Gueira’s callouses along his length.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Gueira says after a long few seconds. “Lay down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is--am I--do you not like--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to do it together, is all,” Gueira says, flushing from the tips of his ears all the way down into his chest. “Maybe you could, um…” He swallows, blinks hard up at Meis. “Watch me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You like showing off?” Meis asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, impossibly, Gueira’s blush deepens before he covers his face with an arm. “You don’t have to say it like that,” he complains. “I just wanna show you how I like it, so you can...you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show me, then,” Meis purrs. He presses himself up against Gueira’s side, craning up to kiss the underside of the other man’s jaw before resting his head below Gueira’s neck. “Teach me the ropes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira huffs before tugging off his underwear and kicking them off to the side. Slowly, tentatively, he lets one knee fall to rest between Meis’s as he slides a hand down his stomach. “It’s not that hard,” he says. “You just gotta--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis looks up to see his tongue poking between his lips in concentration before his face smooths, then looks down to see his fingers coming away wet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or, ya know, lube,” Gueira says. “You ever finger yourself?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really my thing,” Meis says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” Gueira breathes. “Well, I don’t really like it, anyway. External is better.” He lets his head tip back with a grunt as he presses his fingers against himself. “And then you’ve gotta…” Tugging Meis’s hand down, he grins. “Follow my lead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sun slitting through the blinds paints their skin gold as Meis learns how Gueira likes to be touched. His hips rub against the mattress while he coaxes out quiet whimpers with a flick of his tongue here, a bit of teeth there, and his fingers moving slick against Gueira. He swallows the sounds down and they burn inside of him, sitting in his chest and threatening to consume him if there’s no release, not a way to show Gueira how much they mean to Meis.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If they could burn, the room would be nothing but ashes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira’s hand on his cock is a bit awkward, fumbling before Meis stops him. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s been a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S okay,” Meis murmurs. He wraps his hand around Gueira’s and squeezes gently, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the other man’s shoulder as he begins to move. “Figure it out later.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fuck,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gueira gasps. His hips twist as he lets Meis go, shoves the hand down to touch himself once again. “Fuck, Meis, yeah, touch yourself for me. Let me see.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis props himself up on an elbow and pushes his hips forward, catching the side of Gueira’s stomach and leaving a trail of wetness behind as he leans in for a kiss. His hair falls in a curtain around them and he thinks it’s perfect--this, them, sheltered from the day as they’re wrapped up in each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira’s orgasm ripples through him, frantic and untamed as he bucks up against Meis. It’s nearly silent, too, his mouth dropping open mid-kiss as his nose wrinkles and brow knits. The tension in him snaps with a breathy </span>
  <em>
    <span>ah, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Meis follows him over the edge shortly after, release landing warm on Gueira’s side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The seconds between orgasm and when pleasure begins to ebb are long, stretching away as Meis lazily presses his lips wherever he can reach. When Gueira shoves at his chest, he flops to the side and brushes his hair out of his face so he can get a look at his partner’s blissed-out face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been a while since I last got laid,” Gueira chuckles. “That was good. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>good.” He seeks out Meis’s hand and slides their fingers together, bringing their knuckles to his lips. “Was I okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gueira groans loudly as he sits up to stretch, and Meis cracks an eye to see him peering down at the come on his side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, didn’t want to ruin the sheets.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I wanna blow you tonight,” Gueira says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meis chokes on his inhale, the bluntness unsurprising but still somehow shocking. “Christ,” he wheezes. “Warn me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah. ‘s cute when you’re surprised like that.” Gueira pats Meis’s chest and grins before sliding off the bed and padding over to the bathroom. He pauses at the door, radiant in the light as he turns back. “Want to shower with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In a minute,” Meis says. He shuts his eyes again to listen to Gueira puttering around, the rush of the water and his slightly off-key singing nearly drowning out the way his heart thuds steady in his ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, yeah, he’s most definitely fucked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But so is Gueira, and Gueira </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>him, and perhaps being utterly and completely at each other’s mercy isn’t so bad after all.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Comments always read and <i>very</i> much appreciated, and I always do my best to get back to them ❤️</p>
<p>You can also find me lurking and yelling about fictional characters on:<br/><a href="https://www.twitter.com/aryagraceling">Twitter</a><br/><a href="https://discord.gg/cM8FaND">Discord</a><br/><a href="https://aryagraceling.tumblr.com">Tumblr</a><br/><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/601270063618951">Facebook</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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